


Kindred: A Day In The Life, 1998

by torturingtaylor (itzaimster)



Series: Kindred Series [13]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Brothers, Bullying, Child Abuse, Clones, Conspiracy, Genetics, Multi, Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-09 03:23:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11095851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzaimster/pseuds/torturingtaylor
Summary: It's 1998 and Mmmbop has been out for over a year now. At fifteen years old the clones know they aren't alone.





	1. The Millers

Carey had just collected some books from his locker and was about to close it when someone took hold of his head and threw it against the door.  
“AH! What the hell?!” his hand went to his forehead as he dropped his backpack.  
“What’s the matter Mmmbop?” a voice taunted from behind him, “got a little headache?”  
Carey was about to retort when he realised the perpetrator wasn’t alone. Instead he had a trio of friends with him, laughing along.  
“Leave me alone Mike,” he stooped to collect the backpack.  
Mike grabbed it before he could and handed it to his friend to the left. He turned it upside down, emptying Carey’s books and stationery onto the floor with a clatter.  
“What do you want?” Carey demanded, more annoyed than anything now.  
“Not so tough without your brother, are you?” Mike teased, “I’ll tell you what I want.”  
Carey backed up against the lockers as Mike faced up to him. His breath stank of breakfast.  
“I want you gone, Miller,” his voice lowered, “you’re a piece of shit pedo and I’m gonna make sure you rot in jail for the rest of your life.”  
“If he lives that long,” one of his friends smirked.  
“We’re just friends,” Carey insisted, “that’s all. I just walk her to school.”  
“Tell it to the judge.”  
“What judge?! You’re not even in law school yet!”  
Mike grabbed him by the shirt and Carey heard it rip. He prepared himself to be punched…  
“HEY!”  
Mike looked to the right and Carey opened his eyes. Mark was storming toward them and he wasn’t slowing down.  
“Stay out of this!” Mike warned, but he didn’t stop.  
Mark grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to let go of Carey, and shoved him backward. One of Mike’s friends instantly grabbed Mark by the hair to pull him back, but Mark turned and landed a punch across his jaw.  
“Shit!” the boy cussed, backing off right away.  
The other two stood back to wait for Mike’s rebuttal.  
“Leave him alone!” Mark’s voice rose in warning.  
“Or what?” Mike scorned, “what are you gonna do? My Dad will have you locked up in five seconds.”  
“I’m sure redneck Daddy’s really fucking proud of his little bully,” Mark scorned right back, “or are you too busy sucking his dick to talk shop?”  
Mike’s face went red and his fists clenched.  
“After all, you’d know a pedo if you saw one wouldn’t you?” Mark’s brow rose, inviting him to attack.  
Mike growled through clenched teeth before running for him. Mark managed to duck away before getting him into a headlock. His long blond hair flew as Mike tried to punch him from underneath but Mark managed to knee him in the hip instead.  
Carey looked around. They’d already drawn a crowd. It wouldn’t be long before a teacher found them. He quickly started to gather his things.  
Mike eventually managed to get a hit in, and Mark backed off with a bleeding lip. He put a hand to his mouth to test for blood, smirking when he saw how much was coming out.  
“Like you’re any exception,” Mike was trying to catch his breath, “I saw you snorting shit under the bleachers with Dom the other day.”  
“What of it?” Mark licked his lip, throwing his head back to get his hair out of the way, “you jealous?”  
“Naw I’m just saying it’s no wonder your Mom killed herself.”  
Mark froze, his eyes turning dark. Carey looked up when he realised what he’d said, his hand curling around a particularly heavy textbook.  
“What did you say?” Mark gave him the option to take it back.  
“Ooh…” one of Mike’s friends looked smug.  
“I said,” Mike looked just as smug, “it’s no wonder your Mom killed herself with a son like you.”  
Carey ditched the book. Mike saw it coming and managed to deflect it from his head, but it gave him the distraction Mark needed. With one hard right hook, Mike hit the ground. Just in time for the first teacher to appear.  
“Hey! Break it up!”  
But one of Mike’s friends had gone for Mark instead, grabbing him around the neck. Carey grabbed the teen around the waist, trying to pull him off.  
The teacher went to Mike’s side, who was already slowly coming to.  
Carey finally managed to pull the other guy off of Mark, but he twisted and landed a punch to Carey’s shoulder. Now that Mark was free he was able to turn and grab him by the throat, throwing him away from his brother.  
“KNOCK IT OFF!” the teacher yelled from his place on the ground.  
Carey fell back into a sit, clutching his shoulder. The kid had hit a pressure point. Seeing him go down only made Mark angrier. He advanced and threw the kid back into the opposite wall. Before he could outright attack him he felt someone grab him by the shoulders. Turning to punch whoever it was, he stopped himself when he saw it was the principal.  
“Mark and Carey Miller. My office. Now,” his voice was stern.  
“What about them?!” Carey’s brow furrowed, “they started it!”  
“I don’t care who started it,” the man scorned as Mark fixed his hair, “get to my office. NOW!”

“Just ignore them, they’re just stupid assholes,” Mark scorned as the door opened behind them.  
The brothers looked over their shoulders as the principal made his way in, closing the door behind himself.  
“Your father is on his way,” he informed them as he walked around to take his seat.  
“You called him?!” Carey looked worried.  
“Of course I did,” the largely built man adjusted his jacket, “Michael was just taken away in an ambulance.”  
Mark broke into a chuckle before quickly sobering with a glare from Carey.  
“It’s just that Dad’s got a lot on his plate right now,” Carey tried to beg, “he doesn’t need this.”  
“And we do?!” Mark scorned.  
“It’s school policy that we inform the parents when their child is facing immediate suspension,” the principal leant forward onto his folded arms.  
“Suspension?” Carey looked horrified, “I can’t get suspended, it’ll be a mark on my record!”  
“Not to worry,” he assured, “you’re not the one facing suspension.”  
“Suits me fine,” Mark shrugged, sitting back in his seat.  
Carey breathed a sigh of relief at that.  
“Now. Tell me what happened,” he was staring Carey down, ignoring Mark for now.

It was nearing dark by the time they got home. Carey was apprehensive as he opened the door for them, Mark following him with their father close behind. The door had barely closed before Gerard took hold of Mark by the ear.  
“OW!”  
“What the fuck were you thinking?!” his father demanded.  
Carey retreated to the other side of the room, unsure of how this was going to play out.  
“You put that kid in the hospital?! Did you even think of what this might cost me?!”  
“He fucking started it!” Mark snapped back, getting a slap across the face for it.  
Carey gulped, trying to work out if he should intervene.  
“I don’t care!” their father shouted back, “what did I ask for, huh? What did I say?! You put your fucking head down and stay out of trouble. How is that too much to ask?”  
“He’s right Dad,” Carey’s voice was soft, “they came after me. He was trying to help.”  
“You stay out of this,” Gerard shot him a fiery glare.  
Carey’s face went red and he diverted his eyes.  
“So I’m supposed to just let them hurt him?” Mark shrugged, “I’m supposed to just let them talk shit about Mom?”  
“Yes!”  
“Since when?”  
“Since I _fucking said so_!”  
“Since it became an inconvenience for you?” Mark corrected, if warily, “since your kids’ problems started interrupting your days of drinking and not going to work? We know, by the way. We know you haven’t been to work in weeks.”  
Gerard shot Carey a glance but he didn’t look up.  
“You’re not my kids,” he looked Mark up and down instead, “you’re only here as a favor to your mother. You’d do well to remember that on occasion.”  
“And I’m sure she’s real proud of you right now,” Mark hit back, determined to keep a straight face.  
Gerard slapped him again, this time making Carey flinch. Mark stayed flat against the wall knowing that moving would only make him angrier.  
Expecting the argument to go on, the brothers were surprised when Gerard simply walked away. Carey watched him head for the kitchen before wiping at his eyes. Mark just waited to make sure he was gone before catching his breath.  
“I’m sorry,” Carey said softly, hoping their father wouldn’t hear, “this is all because-“  
“Don’t,” Mark put a hand up to stop him.  
Carey forced himself to hold back and took a deep breath.  
“The TV’s gone,” Mark realised aloud with a quick glance toward the kitchen.  
Carey winced when he realised Mark was right.  
“He must have sold it,” he sighed, starting to pull books from his backpack so he could start on his homework.  
“Yeah but for what?” Mark finally left the wall, “the rent? Or alcohol?”  
“It doesn’t matter,” Carey took a seat on the couch, setting his books on the coffee table.  
“Doesn’t matter?” Mark’s brow rose, “you’re not worried we won’t have a roof over our heads next week?”  
“Of course I’m worried,” Carey looked up at him, “but aside from going out and finding jobs ourselves, there’s nothing we can do about it.”  
Mark paused at that, and he looked like he was thinking it over.  
“What?” Carey was worried by the look.  
“Nothing,” Mark was caught off guard.  
“Bullshit.”  
“I’m gonna go out,” Mark started backing toward the door.  
“Why? To find a job?” Carey frowned, making no move to stop him.  
“It’s not like I’ve got my time taken up with school right now,” Mark scoffed.  
“Be careful,” was all Carey could get out before the door closed behind him.  
He started biting his nails as he heard Mark’s footsteps heading down the street, and he prayed their father wouldn’t suddenly appear and ask where Mark had gone. The sound of glass clinking in the kitchen gave him more confidence that he wouldn’t.

Mark quickly tied his hair into a long ponytail and checked his pocket to make sure he still had his switchblade there. A few blocks over he turned into a dark alley, littered with the homeless and people who hadn’t bothered going home. With a quick look out for either police or anyone he knew, he walked up to a back door with a lamplight and knocked sharply.  
He heard fussing inside and kept an eye out before the door was answered. A large negro woman in a sari answered, and a smile crossed her face as she leant against the doorway.  
“Miller,” she greeted, “what are you doing here so late?”  
“Looking for a job?” he shrugged dejectedly.  
“Honey you don’t want no job around these parts.”  
“Where else could I go?” he frowned, “we need money and we need it fast or we’re gonna be out on the streets.”  
The woman took a quick look down the alley before putting a hand on the back of his neck and pulling him inside. He relaxed a little once the door closed behind them and she slid the bolt shut.  
“It sounds honorable, what you’re doing,” she assured, “but I’m not sure that this is the right place. Have you asked Lionel?”  
“No,” Mark admitted, wringing his hands as she led him through the house, “but I heard his brother got shot last week.”  
“Hm,” she nodded.  
“So I kinda thought this might be safer.”  
“Take a seat,” she indicated a large embroidered couch.  
He did so, keeping his hands between his knees. She took hold of the tie in his hair and gently pulled it free, fanning his hair out before taking hold of his chin. The silence as she sized him up put him more on edge than he already had been.  
“Hm,” she said again.  
“What?” he frowned when she didn’t let him go.  
“You’re not ready,” she pulled her hand away, “which is a shame. With your ripped jeans and your band shirt and that acne-free perfect jawline of yours, you’d be perfect for our pickier clientele.”  
“I am so ready,” Mark frowned, “it can’t be that hard.”  
“Come here,” she indicated for him to get up, moving over to switch off the lights.  
Mark stood and followed her to where she pulled a curtain aside. A window was behind it that looked into a small waiting room.  
“What’s this for?” he frowned as she put a hand on his shoulder.  
“You see that man there?” she indicated the only man in the room.  
He was old, and dressed in a sharp business suit.  
“Yeah?” he shrugged.  
“Every Tuesday he tells his wife he works late,” she elaborated, “instead he comes here.”  
“What does that-“  
“Could you see yourself with his dick in your mouth?” she casually asked, “or elsewhere?”  
Mark’s face went red and he diverted his eyes.  
“And that’s not all he likes to do,” she assured, smiling now that she’d gotten a reaction, “so how far are you prepared to go, just to keep that roof over your head? Because once word gets out that we have someone like you on staff I can guarantee… they’ll be lining up halfway down the block for a piece of this.”  
She slapped him on the rear and he cursed in his head when it made him jump. With a smirk she closed the curtain and he took a step back.  
“I think I need to think about it,” he admitted, scratching at his cheek.  
“I think you’d be better off going to speak to old Lionel,” she said instead, “his brother’s problems were unrelated. He runs a tight business. I should know.”  
Mark nodded, backing towards the door. She followed.  
“Would he be home now?” he asked awkwardly.  
“He has business tonight, so yes.”  
“Thanks,” he made it to the door and stopped to wait, “and… thanks.”  
“It’s no problem,” she assured, pulling the bolt open but stopping him before he could leave, “maybe come back next year? There’ll still be a place for you then.”  
“I’ll think about it,” Mark promised, though he shuddered at the idea.  
“You do that,” she gave him a nod before opening the door for him.  
“Goodnight Madam.”  
“Goodnight Marcus.”  
He fled down the steps and headed further into the alley as she watched him from the doorway. She waited until he’d rounded the corner before going back inside.

It was nearing midnight when Mark returned home. He was quiet as he made his way in, despite seeing a light still on. He found Carey still on the couch with his eyes barely open.  
“You’re still studying?” he frowned in disgust.  
“I finished a while ago. I was waiting for you,” Carey admitted.  
“You’re not Mom,” Mark rolled his eyes, before starting to head for the bedroom.  
“Wait,” Carey insisted.  
The tone of his voice made Mark stop.  
“What did you do?” he asked.  
Mark could tell he was tired and it meant that his temper was going to be short. Lying wouldn’t be an option.  
“Got a job,” he admitted.  
“Doing what?” Carey was afraid to ask.  
Mark dug in the back pocket of his jeans and threw a wad of cash onto the table in front of Carey. Carey’s brow furrowed as he grabbed it, quickly estimating around two thousand dollars.  
“It doesn’t matter,” Mark insisted, “I made that in like two hours.”  
“I’m thinking it does matter,” Carey looked up, “how could it possibly be legal?”  
“It can’t,” Mark shrugged, “but I can handle it.”  
“But-“  
“I can handle it,” Mark insisted, “and the less you know about it, the better. Just let me do my job and save what’s left of this damn family.”  
Carey was about to respond when Mark simply left the room. He heard him make his way into their bedroom and simply collapse onto the bed.  
“Shit,” he cussed under his breath, biting at his nails again as he looked the money over.  
He knew it wouldn’t be going back to wherever it came from, so now he just had to get it to their landlord without their father noticing.


	2. Alex

Alex tried to be quiet as he peeked around the end of the corridor. It was full of teens collecting things from their lockers and socialising between classes. Alex often waited until the bell rang and the halls cleared before tending to his own needs and today was going to be no different.  
At least he hoped.  
He must have jumped six inches when he felt someone put a hand on his shoulder.  
“Alexander.”  
“Mr Darch,” Alex sighed with relief.  
“The term paper you submitted yesterday. It’s very good.”  
“Thanks Mr Darch,” Alex smiled a little, still keeping an eye on the kids walking past.  
“Have you considered a future in the computing industry?” Darch turned more serious, “if you’d like to drop by my office after school I can show you some courses I think would suit you perfectly. Do you own a computer?”  
“I do, yeah. Thank you,” Alex suddenly paid more attention, “it’s not a good one cos we couldn’t really afford one, but I have both a PC and a Mac.”  
Darch paused thoughtfully.  
“Perhaps you’d be interested in our new scholarship for computer sciences?” he suggested.  
“A scholarship?” Alex’s brow rose.  
“I was considering putting you forward for it already, but that paper has sealed the deal for me. Come by my office and we’ll discuss it further.”  
He was about to walk away when Alex spotted two boys off to the right with their eyes on him. They’d found him.  
“Um… Mr Darch?” he tapped him on the arm, trying to keep him, “when is the scholarship decided? What do I have to do for it?”  
“We’ll talk after school,” his teacher insisted, “the bell’s about to ring.”  
Right on cue, it did. Alex’s heart immediately sank. Darch walked away and the boys came right over.  
“Hey little girl,” one of them taunted, a recent growth spurt making him a lot taller than Alex, “the professor offer to help with your homework?”  
“A little afterschool activity, if you know what I mean?” the other smirked, blocking his exit.  
“No,” Alex frowned, trying desperately to make eye contact with anyone passing by.  
The corridor was emptying quickly and he needed to get his books for the next class.  
“Sure you don’t,” he was shoved in the shoulder, “what have you got for lunch today, nerd?”  
“I bet it’s not money,” the other scorned, “he can’t even afford clothes without holes. Where’d you get that shirt? The trash outside?”  
Alex looked down at it in time to be shoved backward again. He hit the wall hard and put his left hand up to stop them getting closer.  
“Give us your lunch,” the taller boy demanded, coming closer anyway.  
“I don’t have anything,” Alex said in a small voice.  
“I don’t believe you.”  
“You gotta eat, right?” the other smirked, “so where is it?”  
“It’s in my locker,” Alex admitted, just wanting them away from him before it escalated any further.  
The big one grabbed his shirt and pushed him toward it. Alex knew that they knew exactly which one it was, and he dejectedly led them there. To their credit they didn’t pay attention to his locker combination, but once the door was open they shoved Alex aside. Books and pens fell to the floor as they rummaged through, eventually coming out with the paper bag that held his food and victoriously running off with it. Alex scratched his head as he forced himself to keep it together, before bending down to collect his things. He set most of it back into the locker before collecting the books he actually needed and heading dismally for his class.

Alex waited until he was sure the bullies had left before emerging from his class and heading to Darch’s office. He spent about ten minutes with him, mostly talking about the scholarship. The requirements were easily within Alex’s range and he took an application form with him when he left. Darch also gave him brochures for some online courses once he realised Alex had the internet at home, and Alex eagerly read them over on his walk to the bike racks.  
He made it home before his mother did and dropped the paperwork on the coffee table on his way to the PC set up in the corner of the living room. As he waited for it to start up he went to turn the TV on, switching it from an infomercial to a channel with kids shows instead. By the time he got back to his chair the computer was mostly ready and he quickly hit the dial-up.  
As he waited for the tone to play through he leant back to reach for the curtain, pulling it aside slightly to check for any sign of his Mom. She didn’t appear before the internet finally connected on the second try. He quickly logged into an MS DOS chatroom with the screenname CainAndABell. He’d barely started to chat when a familiar sound came from the TV. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see the _Mmmbop_ video playing. It didn’t matter how many times he saw it, it was still weird. Maybe they really were long lost brothers?  
He shook it off and focused on the computer screen again. As much as he wondered, the song still only filled him with dread about what would happen at school the next day.

His mother arrived home just after dark. As soon as he heard her coming he quickly dropped what he was doing and headed for the kitchen so he could rush to put some food together. It was late and he knew she’d be hungry.  
He heard her come in and lock the door behind herself, before dumping her things on the table. There was a short moment of silence.  
“Alexander?!” she called out.  
“In the kitchen!” he replied, setting the dial on the stove before heading back.  
He stopped in the doorway when he saw the brochures in her hand.  
“What is this?” she demanded, staring him down.  
His hands awkwardly found his pockets and his shoulders receded.  
“Just information,” he replied.  
“On what? On colleges?!” she looked incredulous, “how do you think I could afford any of this?!”  
“It’s a scholarship,” Alex quickly interjected, wishing that if she’d snoop she’d do it properly, “we wouldn’t have to pay anything. Mr Darch thinks I have a good shot at this, and there’s online courses I could do.”  
“Online?” her brow rose in confusion.  
“Yeah,” he looked toward the computer, “you can do school on the internet now. Well not _now_ now, but they’re going to start soon.”  
Judy turned to look at the computer herself. Alex’s chatroom was still on the screen full of messages asking where he’d gone.  
“How could you do it on the computer with no teacher?” she frowned.  
“There is a teacher I just think they’re over the phone,” he shrugged, “I don’t actually know. I only found out this afternoon. I haven’t even read everything yet.”  
His Mom dropped the brochures and made her way over to him. He thought she might be coming to hug him but she took hold of his chin instead and turned his head slightly. He cursed internally when he realised he must have had bruising there already.  
“What happened?” she demanded.  
“It’s nothing,” he insisted, “just the same jerks at school.”  
“I thought I told you to avoid them.”  
“I tried,” his brow furrowed, “but I can’t hide all day.”  
“Try harder,” she ordered before letting him go, “and spend more time outside. You’re going to end up with glasses and I don’t want to have to afford those too.”  
Alex sighed as she pushed past him and into the kitchen to see what he’d done so far.  
“We’ll look them over after dinner,” she promised from behind him.

True to her word, they sat down and started looking. Alex gave her all the information that Darch had given him and tried to explain things enough so that she had a better idea of how it all worked. Judy had never shown an interest in computing herself, but she knew that her son was good at it.  
At one point Alex stopped to go get them some drinks and when he came back he found her lost in thought.  
“Everything okay?” he asked worriedly, the look on her face not giving him a lot of confidence.  
“Fine,” she smiled, before reaching up for the glass.  
“You don’t look fine,” he had to work up the nerve to say before kneeling on the floor in front of the table again.  
“This is just a lot to think about,” she reasoned, “and for you too. This is a whole different way to go about your schooling. It’s like home-schooling but I can’t stay home with you. I don’t know how I feel about you being home alone all day.”  
“It’s okay,” Alex shrugged, “I get home before you most days anyway. I’m fifteen Mom.”  
“I know, but you aren’t home all day,” she frowned.  
“Except on holidays. Or when I’m sick,” he tentatively pointed out.  
“But this would be full time. All day every day.”  
He chewed on his lip as she went back to reading something she’d already read three times.  
“You know, you said I could have the basement when I turned sixteen…” he softly reminded her, “maybe I could turn it into a work station. I can go down there to do school work and then come back up during normal hours. Like clocking in.”  
“Maybe.”  
Alex considered that promising. Usually when the answer was ‘maybe’ he had a good chance of talking her around.  
“It’s getting late,” she announced, “you should go to bed. You still have school tomorrow.”  
“I know,” his eyes fell.  
“We can talk about this more tomorrow night. When do you have to let Mr Darch know?”  
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but I think I gotta apply by next Friday.”  
“Give me the weekend,” she nodded to herself, “don’t forget to turn the computer off.”  
Alex pulled a face knowing the weekend was still three days away, but he stood to do as she’d asked. The computer took a while to shut down and she continued reading brochures in silence in the meantime. He finally turned the hard drive and monitor off and said a quick goodnight as he headed for his room.

Settling into bed, Alex pulled the covers tightly over himself before reaching down for the Walkman on the floor. He rewound the cassette to the start, slipping the small foam headphones over his ears while he waited. As the opening chords of _Thinking Of You_ sounded he reached for the cassette cover and fumbled with it to pull out the insert. He’d stared at the pictures many times over, but it still seemed like it couldn’t possibly be real. Despite Alex’s hair never having been longer than a few inches in his life the resemblance to Taylor was uncanny. He’d tried singing along to the songs during the day just to see if their voices matched, but his voice had changed long ago and he couldn’t possibly match Taylor’s work.  
He’d done his reading. He knew that the Hansons were brothers, and that they were a part of a large family. It had definitely crossed his mind that they were just really good lookalikes, but anytime he passed a magazine cover or a TV with their videos playing he’d had to take another look. Even their teeth matched.  
He fast forwarded _Mmmbop_ and the tape began to play _Weird_. The lyrics, while he’d heard them a hundred times already, still made him uncomfortable. Maybe Taylor knew something too?  
With a sigh he put the cassette cover back together and set it down before reaching over to turn off the lamp. Like he had many times before he quickly fell asleep with the sounds of the Hansons’ voices in his ears.


	3. Colin

“You stop right there young man!”  
Colin groaned and stopped in the doorway, turning back around to face his mother. She made her way over from the kitchen counter – heels sharp on the tiled floor – and began to straighten his tie.  
“No son of mine leaves the house looking like a halfwit,” she said under her breath.  
“It was just loose,” he rolled his eyes.  
“Exactly. Pull yourself together you have a reputation to uphold.”  
He waited until she was done before turning to leave again.  
“Don’t forget the new butler will pick you up from basketball practise!” she called after him before going back to her morning coffee.  
Colin jumped down the steps to the waiting car and closed the door behind him as he got in the back.  
“Mom fixed your tie, didn’t she?” his little brother smirked from the other side of the seat.  
Colin adjusted it himself, making it slightly looser.  
“You boys got your seatbelts on?” the driver looked over his shoulder.  
“No!” his brother dobbed.  
“Shut the hell up,” Colin muttered, reaching for it.  
“I’ll tell Mom you said a swear.”  
“Like she cares!”  
Once the belt was on the car pulled out and headed for their gate.

Colin’s brother was dropped off first at the elementary school before Colin was taken further to the high school. He could see his friends waiting for him out front and he jumped out of the car without bothering to say goodbye to the driver.  
“Reis!” one of them greeted as he got closer, “you’re late.”  
Colin made a show of checking his watch before realising he was right.  
“Only because I was screwing your Mom,” he smirked.  
The others in the group jeered as the first boy rolled his eyes.  
“Hey look, it’s the smurf,” one gave him a nudge, indicating a boy coming up the path wearing a blue beanie.  
The boy kept his head down as he tried to hurry past. Because he wasn’t watching Colin was easily able to stick a leg out and cause him to trip over. The boy fell to his hands and knees as the group broke into laughter.  
“Look at that, he can’t even walk properly!” Colin taunted as he picked himself up.  
“Aww, Mommy and Daddy couldn’t spring for walking lessons today?” one of the others joined in as he hurried away.  
The bell rang and the group casually ignored it as everyone began rushing to class.  
“Did you hear Miss Stick-Up-Her-Ass is doing a chem test today?” one of them adjusted his satchel.  
“Skip it,” Colin shrugged.  
“I can’t, the bitch is failing me.”  
“So tell your Dad to take care of her.”  
“Naw he’s after Mrs Hendling.”  
“Serious? That old cow!”  
“He says she’s a MILF. I don’t see it.”  
“Speaking of MILF…”  
Colin barely heard him, his eyes on a couple of girls making their way up the stone steps.  
“Ladies,” he greeted with a grin, “Carly.”  
“Colin,” the blond smiled back, continuing to walk.  
Her brunette friend rolled her eyes as they passed.  
He kept his eye on her as she disappeared into the building.  
“Seriously man? You’re worse than a dog.”  
“She’s going to be the craziest ex-wife I’ll ever have, she’ll probably burn all my shit when she leaves,” Colin mused before adjusting his bag, “later boys. Gotta get to class.”  
“Something that rhymes with class more like.”  
Colin just smirked as he jogged to follow the girls inside.

Colin fell back against the wall to catch his breath as Carly turned to face him. She grinned and leant in for a kiss, slipping her arms around his shoulders. He reciprocated as he buckled his belt.  
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she bit her lip as she pulled away.  
“I disagree,” his brow rose, “I think we should do it more often.”  
She kissed him again before finally pulling away.  
“My Dad would kill me if he found out,” she straightened her skirt before bending over to fetch her makeup case from her bag.  
“Yeah… your Dad,” Colin agreed, eyes on where her skirt had risen, “not one of my biggest fans.”  
She used the mirror to fix her hair.  
“He just thinks I’m only into you because you look like that Taylor Hanson.”  
Colin rolled his eyes as he replaced the tie she’d pulled off him.  
“You don’t think that, do you?” she turned back with a frown.  
“What?” he was glad it was dark in the closet so she couldn’t see him blush, “that you like me for my looks?”  
“Yeah,” she looked a little worried.  
“Honestly? I wouldn’t even care,” he admitted, “if that’s the price I have to pay to keep you in my life, so be it.”  
A smile crossed her face again and the sparkle in her eye made his heart skip a beat.  
“You’re not going to say you love me or anything, are you?” she teased.  
“Course not,” he smirked, “that comes later.”  
They heard the school bell ring and she stood on her tip toes to give him another kiss.  
“I’ll see you after school,” she mused, before grabbing her bag and opening the door.  
“You’re coming by practise, right?”  
“Duh.”  
He watched as she took a careful lookout before confidently striding out into the corridor. He waited until the door closed before fishing in his pocket.  
The case was light in weight and not at all proportionate to the cost of the ring it held.

Basketball practise flew by with Carly and her friend watching. Colin was more focused on their reactions than on the game itself. His parents had made him take up the extra-curricular activity purely to help with his grades so despite being naturally skilled he wasn’t all that concerned with his efforts. When practise was over the boys took to the showers and Colin was the first one out again.  
“Ladies,” he greeted with a nod, sliding the towel he’d been using on his hair around the back of his neck.  
“Colin,” the brunette returned with distaste as Carly playfully bit her lip.  
“What do you say we take this party down to Reggie’s?” he pointedly ignored Carly’s friend, “grab some shakes and see what happens?”  
“I’m down,” Carly grinned.  
“I hope you are.”  
“Your Dad will pitch a fit,” Carly’s friend warned her.  
“Screw him,” she scowled, standing from the bench to reach over and take Colin’s hand, “he will anyway.”  
“Coming?” Colin offered the other with raised brows.  
“No,” she scorned.  
“Fine,” Carly shrugged before the couple made to walk out.  
Colin spotted the car waiting for him at the side of the road and pointedly headed in the opposite direction. He knew his parents’ butler could easily see him and that he’d report back to his parents that he’d run off with ‘that girl again’. He didn’t think he could possibly care less.

They walked through the dark streets toward a well-lit corner diner where they certainly weren’t the youngest patrons at this odd time of night. Colin used money he’d stolen from his father’s wallet to pay for whatever Carly wanted, not bothering to tip their waitress. They hung out until closing time around 10pm when they were finally kicked out onto the street.  
“Now what?” Carly asked, neither of them tired.  
“We should head down to the park,” Colin suggested, “there shouldn’t be anyone there by now.”  
“Except those homeless losers sleeping under the bridge,” Carly rolled her eyes, “we should throw rocks at them again. You were close to getting one on the head last time.”  
“Sure,” Colin shrugged, again thinking of the messy breakup they were bound to eventually have.  
He let her lead the way, but didn’t let go of her hand. They made it to the park in good time and Carly headed for the bridge right away. Colin’s other hand occasionally felt to make sure the box was still in his pocket, but he was searching for the right moment.  
He’d been searching for days already.  
She made it onto the bridge and started collecting small stones. He helped, but he spent more time watching her. Every time she bent over again he could easily see up her skirt.  
“Ready?” she eventually asked, breaking his concentration.  
“Sure.”  
She grinned and jogged to the side where she could line up an unsuspecting victim beneath them. She soon had one in her sights and began to aim. Colin watched over the edge as she missed her first three shots and he wondered how she’d ever been coordinated enough to become a cheerleader in the first place.  
“You try,” she handed him a larger rock, already getting frustrated.  
The man hadn’t stirred at all. He either didn’t hear the stones hitting the ground or he was in a deep sleep.  
Colin took the rock and juggled it in his hands to adjust for weight before aiming and hitting the man in the shoulder. He startled awake and started to look for what had hit him. Carly broke into giggles.  
“Try again,” Colin mused, happy to see her laugh even if the sound was slightly annoying.  
Carly tried, but missed by a couple of yards. While the man was distracted by the sound she aimed again, this time getting him square between the shoulders. He immediately looked up.  
“Goddamn kids!” his voice echoed under the bridge.  
“GET A JOB, TROLL!” Colin yelled back, smirking as Carly took him by the arm and pulled him away.  
They ran back down into the park, just far enough so the bridge was out of sight. When they stopped for a breather Carly grabbed him and kissed him again.  
“That was fun,” she mused as she pulled away.  
“I could think of something better,” his brow rose.  
“Keep your dick in your pants,” she slid her fingers under his belt playfully, “the night is young.”  
“I don’t know about that,” he checked his watch.  
He bit his lip in the pause that followed.  
“What is it?” she noticed right away.  
“Just something I want to ask you,” he admitted, “but I don’t want to be lame about it.”  
She tilted her head curiously.  
“You know we’ve already had prom, right?” she checked.  
“It’s not about prom,” his right hand fell to hers, curling his fingers around to make her let go of the belt.  
His other hand reached for the box. Her eyes went down to watch, and her brow simply raised as he struggled to get it open.  
“So I know we’re young and stupid and all that,” he couldn’t believe how nervous he was, “and something like marriage is a long way off for both of us, but…”  
“Yes,” she looked him in the eye before the box even opened.  
“I haven’t asked you yet…” his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  
“Yes, I will eventually marry you,” her eyes gleamed, “give it to me.”  
“The ring or-?”  
“The ring!”  
“Okay! Okay,” he chuckled, using both hands to get it out of the box and put it onto her ring finger.  
She studied it for a moment but didn’t seem overly impressed.  
“With this ring, I promise myself to you too,” he felt the need to be formal.  
“Yeah, yeah,” she glossed over, “now let’s get down and dirty.”  
She grabbed him into a kiss again before her hands lowered to his belt buckle with purpose this time.

It was well after midnight when Colin climbed the vined trestle outside his bedroom. Once onto the first floor roof he had no problem quietly opening his window and climbing inside. He quickly took off his uniform in the dark, discarding it to the floor, before feeling around for his pyjamas on the bed. He found them and got dressed before turning on his bedside lamp.  
He jumped when he realised his father was sitting at his writing desk.  
“Really Dad?” he scorned.  
“You were out with that girl again.”  
“So what? It’s not going to affect my grades,” Colin kept his tone.  
“You’d better hope not.”  
“Or else what?” Colin shrugged, “what’s the worst you could do? Write me out of the will? Like I care!”  
He stood his ground as his father stood up. His figured towered over him but Colin wasn’t at all intimidated.  
“No son of mine will be seen going around with whores like her,” he seethed.  
“But I’m not your son, am I?” Colin’s temper matched well, “it’s not like you don’t throw it in my face often enough.”  
His father grit his teeth and Colin knew he had him in a bind.  
“I’ll see whoever I want, and I’ll fuck whoever I want,” he insisted, “and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”  
“So you might think,” his father looked suddenly smug.  
Colin frowned as he turned to the desk, tapping something he’d left there.  
“Some light reading for you, because I’m sure you won’t sleep tonight. If you have to ask, your mother already approves. Be up by seven for school.”  
With that, his father left the room. Colin waited until his footsteps had dissipated down the hall before walking over to the desk and picking up the first thing he saw.  
His father had left three different brochures for prestige boarding schools there.  
He curled the first one into his fist before turning and hitting the back of the door with it.


	4. Keandre

Keandre blew on the charcoal before smudging it a little with his ring finger. It was a new medium he was trying out and he was already impressed with how easy the black was to manipulate. He sighed as he looked out across the hilly landscape knowing that the sunrise was his cue to leave.  
He carefully packed up his art folder and leapt down from the stone wall he’d been atop. He made his way back through the winding alleys toward his home, the sun well and truly in the sky by the time he made it.  
But when he rounded the corner he paused. He saw his step-father smoking on the front step, almost immediately making eye contact. The moment his step-father moved Keandre backed away and disappeared back down the nearest alley. He wouldn’t be going home this morning. Instead he made his way straight to school. 

He arrived while many teachers were, but they were used to seeing him around at odd hours. He found a quiet corner to sit and work on his drawing while he waited for a reasonable time, before being one of the first to make his way into class. By lunchtime he was already yawning and he found a spot under a tree during the day for a quick nap. He was late to his afternoon classes as a result and it wasn’t a favorite teacher. Because of this, he found himself marked down for afternoon detention. He rolled his eyes at the news but didn’t really care. The less time he had to spend at home the better.  
Another setback came when he went to his locker before his last class to find it had been covered in graffiti. Sexual slurs were the most prominent. He rolled his eyes again as he fetched what he needed from inside before retrieving a solvent he also kept in there and using it to cover the fresh ink. He knew from experience that it would help wash it off easier later. With the culprits nowhere in sight, he went on to his final class as normal.  
Detention was with three other people known as regular troublemakers and they kept the supervising teacher well and truly preoccupied while Keandre was able to continue his work with charcoal in the back corner. He was a little dismal when the time was up and because it took a while to pack everything he was the last one out.

He took his time on the walk home, debating on a detour. He was already nearing his street when he realised he was being followed. His senses suddenly on overdrive, he took the opportunity to turn down another alley and see if the person would follow him away.  
They did. He managed to lead them down toward the wall where he liked to draw and after faking walking behind it he stopped to wait for the person to catch up. When he heard their footsteps he braced himself, and when their shadow appeared he lunged.  
He grabbed them by the jacket and threw them back against the wall. Momentarily shocked to find that it was a woman quite a bit older than him.  
“Pourquoi me suivez-vous?/Why are you following me?” he demanded, her hands raised in surrender despite surely being able to overpower him.  
“Je veux juste vous parler/I just want to talk to you,” she assured, not very intimidated.  
Keandre quickly let her go, checking over his shoulder to make sure they were alone.  
“Êtes-vous des services pour enfants?/Are you child services?” he frowned.  
She shook her head and lowered her hands.  
“Rien de semblable à ça/Nothing like that,” she was looking him over, “mais je veux vous aider./but I want to help you.”  
“Pourquoi?/Why?” he demanded.  
“Je t'ai observé/I’ve been watching you,” she admitted, “longtemps. Je pense que je peux vous aider./for a long time. I think I can help you.”  
Keandre was immediately on guard, and now wondering if he should have led her to such an isolated spot.  
“Pourquoi aurais-je besoin d'aide?/Why would I need help?” he frowned, readying himself to either run or fight if he had to.  
“Vous ne devez pas rester là-bas/You don’t have to stay there,” she didn’t seem worried, “avec lui. Nous savons ce qu'il fait. Nous avons tout entendu./with him. We know what he does. We have heard everything.”  
“C'est impossible. Je n'ai rien dit à personne./That’s impossible. I haven’t told anyone.”  
“Les mots se retrouvent/Word gets around,” she mused, “J'ai un endroit où rester. Quelque part en sécurité./I have somewhere for you to stay. Somewhere safe.”  
Keandre looked around again, still very uncomfortable.  
“Quel est le piège?/What’s the catch?” he asked, intrigued nonetheless.  
“Pas de prise/No catch,” she assured, “nous aidons les gens comme vous tout le temps./we help people like you all the time.”  
“Des gens comme moi? Quelles sont les personnes comme moi?/People like me? What are people like me?” he pulled a face.  
“Seul./Alone.”  
She smiled, and it oddly put him a little at ease.  
“Viens. Je peux vous montrer la maison/Come. I can show you the house,” she offered, indicating for him to follow her.  
She walked away regardless, leaving Keandre only confused. He looked at where the sun was close to setting. He knew his father was going to be furious if he wasn’t home before dark, but she was right about one thing.  
He didn’t want to go home. So he followed her.

The walk was long but not too long. They crossed a railroad with no sign of trains and made their way through dense forestation. More than once Keandre wondered if he was being lured to his death. They came across a young adult chopping wood before anything else, and he gave Keandre a curious look, but not a word was spoken between them.  
When they came to a clearing Keandre was taken aback at the sight of the house. From the outside it looked like a rundown mansion, but he could already tell it was anything but.  
“C'est notre maison/This is our home,” the woman introduced, indicating for him to keep following her.  
He was already more at ease with the sight of other kids around, but he slid his hands into his pockets all the same. He followed her up to the front door where she began the grand tour.  
The house consisted of many bedrooms, and rooms that had evidently been transformed into bedrooms. They were filled with bunk beds and a few adults were fast asleep in some.  
“Vous vivez ici ici?/You all live here?” he asked, surprised at the crowd.  
“Oui.”  
They avoided the kitchen with the reasoning that it was close to dinnertime and too busy, but she showed him the dining hall a couple of teenagers were setting up before taking him through the wash room and out into the yard again. From the back door a vast garden spread, and Keandre could tell right away that most of it was produce.  
“Vous habitez de la terre?/You live from the land?” he realised.  
“La plupart. Certains hommes ont des emplois pour aider à payer les commodités, mais nous n'en avons pas besoin./Mostly. Some of the men have jobs to help pay for amenities, but we don’t need much.”  
“Est-ce une maison pour les enfants? Perdu ou abandonné?/Is this a home for children? Lost or abandoned?” he tried to understand, “est-ce que quelqu'un sait que vous êtes ici?/does anyone know you’re here?”  
She smiled again.  
“Quelque chose comme ca/Something like that,” she agreed before indicating the house, “voulez-vous manger quelque chose?/would you like something to eat?”  
Keandre looked back, debating with himself. His step-father would kill him he was sure of it. But he knew he’d already pressed today’s boundaries so what would a little more hurt?  
“D'accord/Okay, ” he agreed.  
Without a pause she took him back up to the house and into the dining room. By now it had been set up into a buffet-style meal and the many children, teens and few supervising adults were gathering to collect their share. She indicated for him to join the line, and no one seemed to mind when he did. He felt very out of place not only because he didn’t know anybody, but also purely because of his dress. The people here wore all sorts of colors while he remained in all black.

After an awkward meal the woman pulled him aside to go and speak on the front porch.  
“Quel est ton nom?/What’s your name?” he realised he hadn’t asked yet.  
“Rhianna,” she replied openly, “et tu es Keandre Moreau.”  
He nodded, wondering again why she’d singled him out.  
“Vous voulez savoir pourquoi je vous ai choisi/You want to know why I chose you,” she suddenly said for him.  
“Oui,” he nodded, glad he hadn’t had to bring it up.  
She sighed as she looked out across the yard. Some younger boys were starting to bring in firewood for the night.  
“Alors que la majeure partie de notre temps est dépensé ici, certains d'entre nous entrent dans la société quand nous devons le faire/While most of our time is spent here, a few of us do go out into society when we have to,” she began, “nous surveillons. Nous surveillons toute personne en danger. Quiconque ne correspond pas./we keep a lookout. We watch for anyone in danger. Anyone who doesn’t fit.”  
“Vous pensez que je ne correspond pas/You think I don’t fit,” Keandre frowned.  
“École. Accueil. Vous êtes toujours seul/School. Home. You are always alone,” she pointed out, “dois-je dire que ton père n'est pas un modèle/should I say your father is not a role model.”  
Keandre turned away, forcing himself not to react otherwise.  
“Ce n'est pas sa faute/It’s not his fault,” he reasoned, “maman est morte il y a quelques années. Il ne sait pas vivre sans elle./mom died a few years ago. He doesn’t know how to live without her.”  
“Ce n'est pas ce dont je parle./That is not what I am talking about.”  
Keandre’s eyes fell, and he could feel his face going red.  
“Nous ne jugeons pas ici/We don’t judge here,” she reassured.  
“Comment le sais-tu?/How do you know?” he asked, wishing he could just leave.  
He already couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here.  
“Nous savons/We know,” Rhianna assured, “nous le voyons en vous/we see it in you.”  
He looked out across the yard again and grit his teeth.  
“Je veux aller à la maison/I want to go home,” he announced.  
“Je vais vous ramener à la maison/I will take you home,” Rhianna promised, standing from her seat, “si vous changez d'avis, vous avez ici une place./if you change your mind, you have a place here.”  
Keandre subconsciously tightened his scarf as he followed her down from the porch and back toward the trees. The sun was long set by the time she returned him to the stone wall and said a short farewell. He quickly realised he had no way to contact her, but he wasn’t sure he wanted one either. The whole experience had been rather creepy.

He finally made his way up to the front door of the townhouse, unlocked it and walked straight in. He left his art folder and backpack by the front door where he could easily grab them again before taking off his coat and starting to head for his room. He hadn’t taken three steps toward the stairs before his step-father’s shadow fell across the way.  
“Je m'inquiétais pour toi/I was worried about you,” he scolded, “où étiez-vous?/where have you been?”  
“Retenue/Detention,” Keandre answered flatly, trying to get past him.  
He was grabbed by the arm.  
“Toute la nuit?/All night?”  
Keandre stopped himself from saying anything else.  
“Êtes-vous sûr de ne pas vouloir un téléphone portable?/Are you sure you don’t want a cell phone?” he asked, “je peux payer pour un. Ce n'est pas un problème/I can pay for one. It’s no trouble.”  
“Non,” Keandre insisted, “je fais bien sans/I do fine without.”  
“Avez-vous déjà mangé votre diner?/Have you eaten your dinner already?”  
“Oui.”  
There was a pause as Keandre felt himself being looked over, before he felt the man’s fingers gently running through his hair.  
“Aller jusqu'au lit et attendre/Go up to the bed and wait,” he insisted.  
“Je ne veux pas/I don’t want to,” Keandre shook his head before flinching as the grip on his arm tightened.  
“Aller jusqu'au lit et attendre,” he repeated, sterner this time.  
Keandre made eye contact and immediately regretted doing so. The look in his step-father’s eyes told him what was coming next if he disobeyed.  
Knowing that he was doing as he was told, his arm was let go as he finally made his way to the stairs. He took them two at a time but paused at the top to look into his room. The tell-tale signs that his step-father had been in there again were all over.  
With a dismal look back down the stairs he continued on to the second bedroom.


	5. Jesse

“Wrench,” a hand appeared from under the truck.  
Jesse went through the tool chest, coming up with the wrench and passing it down.  
“Hey Pa?” he bit his lip once it disappeared.  
“Yeah?” he called back.  
“Would you be mad if I didn’t go to college?” his eyes narrowed, worried about the reaction.  
He heard a pause and his worry only elevated.  
“You know we can’t afford to send you to college, right?” his father didn’t bother moving, so Jesse couldn’t see his face.  
“So I’d be solving a problem then,” Jesse was hopeful.  
“You’re still going to community college though.”  
“Yeah but like… even community college. Not going. Nada. Zip,” he elaborated.  
His father rolled out from under the truck and Jesse froze, staring down at him.  
“You being serious?” he frowned.  
“That was the idea,” only Jesse’s eyes moved.  
“What you gonna do instead? You can’t do nothing with your life, and if you want any kind of future with that girl of yours you’re gonna need to be able to provide-“  
“The army,” Jesse interrupted, knowing he’d go on.  
“The army?” his brow rose and he sat himself up.  
“Yeah,” Jesse shrugged, “this guy came to the school the other day to talk to us about it. You know you only have to serve a few years and your retirement is basically funded.”  
“Only on our salary,” his father scoffed.  
“It’ll set us up with everything we need,” Jesse pointed out, “all I gotta do is serve my country. You already taught me that was important.”  
His father paused at that. After a moment he pulled himself off the trolley and grabbed a rag to wipe the oil from his hands.  
“You don’t like it,” Jesse realised.  
“It’s not that I don’t like it.”  
“Your face is telling me you don’t like it. You got the whole droopy thing going on with the eyes and the chin and-“  
“It’s not that I don’t like it,” his father insisted, “I’d even consider it admirable. But you’re our only son.”  
Jesse pulled a face at that.  
“Have you thought about what your Mama might think?”  
“Sure,” Jesse scratched his head awkwardly, “but I hadn’t really planned on telling her yet.”  
“You might want to think that over a bit before you set your mind to it.”  
Jesse stood back as his father stood up, avoiding eye contact now that it was awkward.  
“Go and get ready for school, we’ll talk about this later.”  
“Yes Sir,” Jesse saluted before jogging back up to the house.  
His father watched after him with a concerned gaze.

After a hearty breakfast his father drove him out to the high school. Jesse watched him drive off before going to wait by the flagpole. As the crowds made their way inside he was starting to get worried before he finally laid eyes on her.  
“Morning,” she smiled, holding out her hand.  
“Morning,” he returned, taking it to lead her inside, “how’s your Ma this morning?”  
“Better than last night. Just gotta work out what day to have the funeral.”  
“And what about you?” he asked as he led her to her locker, “how are you?”  
She sighed, offering a quick smile before opening it to fetch her books.  
“You know we could ditch today if you need to,” he offered, leaning against the next one, “go for a walk, just talk it out.”  
“That’s okay,” she shook her head, “I know you have a test in fourth. You can’t miss it again.”  
Jesse pulled a face, obviously not considering them equally important.  
“I’ll see you at lunch, yeah?” she suggested as the bell rang overhead.  
“Sure,” he shrugged.  
She closed the locker and they parted ways.

Jesse spent most of his early classes doodling to the side of his notes and ignoring his friends. He had a lot on his mind today. When the lunch bell finally rang he rushed back to his own locker to drop off some books before going to find his girlfriend again. She was already in the cafeteria line and she let him cut in.  
“How did the morning go?” he asked, reaching behind her for an apple.  
“Could have been worse,” she shrugged.  
Her eyes were red and he wondered if she’d been crying. He knew she hated anyone seeing her cry.  
“Want to talk about it?” he offered.  
“That’s the last thing I want to do.”  
Jesse bit his tongue at that, refraining from suggesting anything further. They took their usual seats at a table with her friends but he noticed she barely spoke to them. Anytime one of them brought up her grandfather’s passing she just blew it off.  
It was hard to concentrate on his test in the afternoon and he knew he should have skipped it after all. He left with no idea of how well he’d done, he just hoped it was enough for a pass. 

“So you’ve been quiet all day.”  
Jesse looked up from his locker as one of his closer friends leant nearby.  
“Something going on with your girl?”  
“Her grandpa passed yesterday,” Jesse admitted.  
“Sucks,” his friend’s eyes lowered.  
“It does,” Jesse agreed, closing the locker.  
“So… I heard those Hanson kids are gonna be in Dallas at the end of September,” his friend sheepishly scratched his head, “or y’know, The Woodlands if you’d rather go Houston way.”  
“Blake I’m not going,” Jesse mused, leaning back against his locker.  
“Why not?” he scorned, “you should at least talk to him man!”  
“I got nothing to say to him,” Jesse shrugged.  
“So _show_ him.”  
Jesse rolled his eyes.  
“Look, I’m not about to get in line with a thousand screaming girls who happen to be there to see a face that looks like mine,” he defended, “and besides, there’s no way we could afford it.”  
“You should at least-“  
“At least what?” Jesse frowned, “you think he’s that easy to corner? Who’s in a dream world now?”  
Blake sighed.  
“We could try and win a radio competition,” he suggested as a last attempt.  
Jesse just scoffed and got up to walk away.  
“Hey!” Blake grabbed his shoulder to stop him, “what did you think of that guy here talking about the army yesterday?”  
“You mean the guy sent to recruit kids into battle before they start getting ideas about following their dreams?” Jesse smirked.  
“Yeah that one.”  
“I’m thinking about it,” Jesse admitted, “I mean the family business will only get me so far. I gotta think about our future you know?”  
“Yeah, me too,” Blake admitted.  
“What’s wrong?” Jesse picked up on right away.  
“Nothing,” Blake realised the look on his face hadn’t been great, “I was just considering it too but didn’t really want to go there myself.”  
“Go where?” Jesse’s eyes narrowed.  
“Down to the recruitment office after school.”  
Jesse checked over his shoulder to make sure his girlfriend hadn’t appeared yet. He hadn’t gotten the nerve to tell her what he’d been thinking either.  
“Today?” he double checked.  
“Today, tomorrow, don’t think it matters.”  
Jesse nodded, thinking it over.  
“I’ll check with the fam and see what I gotta do this afternoon,” he reasoned, “if not today we’ll go tomorrow, yeah?”  
“Sounds good,” Blake immediately brightened, “meet you out front?”  
“Sure thing,” Jesse gave him a nod, watching him head off down the corridor.  
“Hey.”  
He turned the other way to see his girlfriend approaching cautiously.  
“Hey,” he stood up properly again, “how are you? Do you want to go somewhere?”  
She sullenly checked her watch.  
“I think I just want to go home, I hope that’s okay,” she winced.  
“That’s fine,” Jesse assured, “I’ll walk you.”  
“It’s okay, my Ma’s coming to get me.”  
“Oh,” Jesse realised, slipping his hands into his pockets.  
She bit her lip, worried she’d offended him.  
“Sorry,” she moved forward to give him a hug.  
“It’s fine,” he insisted, quickly pulling his hands out to reciprocate, “I got some things to do to keep busy. Can I call you later?”  
“Of course.”  
He pulled back and offered her a reassuring smile.  
“It’ll be fine,” he rubbed her arm, “let me know if your Ma finalises anything.”  
“Okay,” she nodded, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag, “bye Jesse.”  
“Take care,” he watched her go, making sure she made it out okay.  
Once he headed outside himself he quickly saw his father’s truck waiting. He also saw Blake by the flagpole. He headed straight for the truck, seeing his father lean out as he approached.  
“Going somewhere?” he raised a brow.  
“I hope,” Jesse mused before thumbing over his shoulder, “Blake wants to head out for a bit. Do you mind?”  
“Be home before the street lights come on,” his father insisted, “or if you haven’t got a ride, call me.”  
“I haven’t got any change,” Jesse checked his pockets.  
His father searched the truck, soon coming up with enough for a few phone calls.  
“Thanks Pa. Can you take this home?” he indicated his backpack.  
“Throw it in.”  
Jesse threw it in the tray before giving his father a wave goodbye and heading back over toward Blake. He could already tell that Blake was itching to go.

“So you boys want to join the army,” was more of a statement as the officer paced behind them.  
They shared a glance before Blake indicated his head. Jesse quickly removed his cap, internally berating himself for not doing it sooner.  
“Yes Sir,” he cleared his throat.  
“We had someone come by our school and talk about the process,” Blake offered.  
“Any particular jobs you two are interested in?”  
“Uh…”  
“We were hoping you could point us in the right direction,” Jesse answered for his friend, “so we might have something to work towards.”  
“Army, Navy or Air Force?”  
“Army, definitely Army,” Blake nodded, and Jesse confirmed.  
“Well I can certainly give you a list of the Army jobs available…” he was too busy looking through paperwork to give them his full attention, “maybe once you decide you can make an appointment for an aptitude test and your medical review. If we progress from there you’ll need interviews with doctors, psychs and an official Defense interviewer. If you make it through all that you’ll sit in front of the board for your formal job interview.”  
Blake shrugged and Jesse returned the look. It didn’t sound bad so far.  
“You boys know you’re a little young just yet, right?” the officer paused in his pacing to give them a stern look.  
“Just want to get the ball rolling downhill,” Jesse assured, “anything to make the process easier.”  
Blake nodded in agreement.  
“Very well,” the officer sighed, heading over to a nearby cabinet, “take these brochures and have a good look through. Feel free to come back with any questions you might have. If I can't answer them I’ll know someone who can.”  
“Thank you,” Jesse gratefully took the paperwork.  
“Yeah, thanks,” Blake agreed, taking his.  
“Y’all have a good afternoon.”

“I should go for something in artillery,” Blake had one of the brochures open as they walked toward a diner, “I’ve always been a good shot.”  
“We probably shouldn’t rush into anything,” Jesse was waiting until they got there to open his.  
“We can’t, we’re too young remember?”  
He turned the brochure over.  
“Maybe I should go for Commando. That’d be cool.”  
Jesse scoffed, opening the diner door for him. He led him to a booth and a waitress appeared almost immediately.  
“Musgrove, Rickett,” the older woman looked between them, “you boys got some money today or do I gotta pull my hair out again all night?”  
Jesse dug in his pocket, placing the change his father had given him on the table.  
“Strawberry shake please ma'am,” he smiled charmingly.  
“Same for me,” Blake fetched a note from his wallet.  
“You’re lucky,” she gave them a wink, taking the money before bringing their orders.  
“Do you think we should be doing this so soon?” Jesse leant forward once she was gone, “maybe we should wait until we’re at least sixteen.”  
“We’re just looking,” Blake insisted, “we’re not signing up yet.”  
“Yet,” Jesse checked over his shoulder, “guy seemed pretty intent on hooking us in.”  
“Two hours ago this was practically your idea,” Blake raised a brow, “are you having second thoughts?”  
“I don’t know,” Jesse looked out the window, “maybe.”  
“Why?”  
Jesse grit his teeth before adjusting his cap.  
“Just something my Pa said this morning,” he admitted.  
“You told your Dad?”  
“Of course,” Jesse shrugged, “why wouldn’t I?”  
“I don’t know. I wouldn’t have told mine is all.”  
“I don’t know that your Dad would be the best voice of reason on the subject,” Jesse pointed out.  
“You’re not wrong.”  
“He said Ma wouldn’t like it,” Jesse shrugged, “and I guess I don’t blame her. They don’t wanna lose me.”  
“What about your lady friend?”  
“I haven’t told her,” Jesse admitted, “she’s got too much going on. I don’t want to worry her.”  
He sat back as their milkshakes came, the waitress setting them down gently with napkins before being on her way.  
“But I will,” Jesse added, “just not yet.”  
“Uh huh,” Blake was busy reading.  
Jesse rolled his eyes and grabbed his drink.

It was starting to get dark when Jesse made it to the street. He stopped at a house at the end of the road, made sure no one was around to see, and quickly plucked a couple of larger flowers from their border garden. Object achieved he made his way a few houses down and snuck down the side fence. From there he focused on the drainpipe which was easy enough to climb to the first floor. Her window was well within reach from it.  
She soon appeared, knowing very well what the soft tapping on the glass meant. Once the window raised he grinned and held out the flowers.  
“You’re going to get caught one day,” she mused, taking them so he could use both hands to climb in.  
“Let’s hope today is not that day,” he returned, making it inside without too much noise.  
He closed the window behind himself as she took the flowers to her dresser.  
“Can I use your phone?” was the first thing he asked.  
“I’ll go get it,” she assured, “just stay quiet.”  
“I know,” he took a seat at her desk.  
He waited patiently while she left the room, and heard her talk quickly with her mother. She soon came back with the cordless phone and handed it over after closing the door.  
“Who are you calling?” she asked as he dialled.  
“My Pa wanted me home by dark,” he admitted sheepishly, “that’s probably not gonna happen.”  
“I’d say not,” she smirked, looking toward the window.  
He was quick to ask his father to collect him from further down the street before handing the phone back. She set it on the dresser.  
“If I keep it she’ll think I’m talking to Steph, and not someone in my room,” she mused, “she’d still flip if she knew you were up here and we were alone.”  
“She does know, right?” he frowned.  
“I don’t know anymore,” she shrugged, “maybe she doesn’t trust us to wait until marriage like we said.”  
“It’s probably not the right town for it,” he reasoned, looking toward the window himself.  
“Yeah…”  
“Think you’ll be at school tomorrow?” he raised a brow, changing the subject.  
“If not I can come by after,” she offered.  
He nodded thoughtfully.  
“I might be going off with Blake again but I can let you know somehow,” he shrugged.  
“What were you two doing today? Steph said she saw you downtown.”  
Jesse paused and his face flushed red. He’d been hoping to tell her later, once her family problems had settled down a little more.  
“Jess?” she frowned, getting worried.  
“You know how we had that career day at school on Monday?” he reminded her.  
“Yeah,” she shrugged.  
“Well… we were looking at some options. For recruiting.”  
“Recruiting for what?”  
“The army,” he admitted, feeling his face redden further.  
“The army?” her brow immediately rose.  
“It’s just a thought right now,” he insisted, “but yeah. I’m starting to think about the future, and I want to be able to give you a better life than what we have here.”  
His eyes fell, embarrassed. She made her way over to the chair and knelt in front of him. He could tell she was at least slightly amused by his embarrassment.  
“That’s sweet,” she put a hand on his arm to stop him picking at his nails, “but I think it’s a little extreme.”  
“It doesn’t have to be,” he shrugged, “I’d only have to do a few tours and I could retire and get a day job.”  
“If you didn’t get hurt in the process,” she pointed out.  
His eyes fell again as he tried to think of another excuse.  
“My Ma will probably say the same thing,” his voice lowered, “but I want to provide for you, and short of joining the family business and inheriting the house when my parents die, I don’t know how else I could do that in this town. With the money I’d earn from the army we could even move somewhere closer to Shreveport. Maybe even inner city.”  
“I don’t need inner city,” she assured, “I just want to be with you, wherever that ends up being.”  
He smirked, knowing that she knew he felt the same way.  
“And besides,” her brow rose, “I don’t know if you know this, but we’re fifteen. We have time to sort this out.”  
“I know,” he insisted, “like I said, it was just an idea. We’re just researching options.”  
She gave his arm a pat before standing up to hug him.  
“I love you,” she said into his shoulder, “and I don’t want you thinking you need to give me the world. I’ll be happy enough here as long as we’re taking on life together.”  
“I know, I just think you deserve more. You deserve the white picket fence and the 2.5 kids running around,” he replied.  
“I already have the world’s most perfect boyfriend,” she mused, “you can fix anything, and on top of that you even look like a pop star.”  
Jesse scoffed at that before they heard a truck horn echo from outside.  
“That’s your Dad,” she let him go, “and we can work on those other things, I promise.”  
He stood up properly to hug her while standing, before leaning down to kiss her. He took his time before she broke into a chuckle.  
“You’d better go or he’ll get mad!” she insisted, pushing him back toward the window.  
He grinned as he went to open it, carefully climbing out and onto the drainpipe again.  
“Hey,” she leant out, making him pause, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
“You will,” he smiled, starting to climb down.  
“I love you!” she whispered loudly.  
“I love you too Chelsea!” he called back, not bothering to whisper.  
She bit her lip and checked over her shoulder, worried that someone had heard, before watching as he jumped to the ground and sprinted out to the road. The shadow of his father’s truck idled against the asphalt, and she waited at the window until it disappeared into the night.


End file.
